By Myself
by Agent Sparrow
Summary: When Sands figured out he had to trust El and a little boy with his saftey, he knew he hit rock bottom. This is a story about how the blind Agent out witted everyone but himself. Continuing with the movie. Not some out of the blue romance. SLASH! ElSands,
1. Chapter One: The Blind and the Beautiful

Please remember that I write for fun, so don't expect threats to work on getting me to update. Disclaimer- I do not own the characters. Please don't sue me.

**By Myself **

**Chapter****One **

**The Blind and the Beautiful**

Agent Sands was never one to admit defeat. In fact, he controlled all the pieces, so defeat never even crossed his mind. But now, he considered the thought. He was cut off by those damn half-assed agents in charge of Mexican operations. They had disconnected his line, by no apparent reason behind it. It took Sands a while longer to figure out that the damned woman Ajedrez. She must have tipped off the CIA of his less then good behavior. Sands cursed his luck. He should have known better. It was his cockiness that got him in trouble this time.

He let out a harsh breath of air, as he tried to straighten himself on the wall. The boy who he had paid to be his eyes was standing in front of him. Sands was sure the kid was still staring at him, waiting for the next move to be made. Somewhere, in Sands pain confused mind, he registered that the boy looked up to him. Aw well. That information was irrelevant to what was going on right now.

"¿Qué hacemos nosotros ahora?", inquired the boy. (_what do we do now?)_

Sands let his chin rest at the strange angle against his chest as the blood mixed with his sweat covered neck. He felt his sunglasses dipping a little. His hair was starting to free itself from behind his ear and blow into his empty sockets.

'What to do now?' Sands repeated the question the boy asked in his mind. He honestly didn't know. He was planning on dying in the road after he shot the bitch. He never planned for the kid to come back for him. He never planned to lean against a wall, trying to battle the pain to think. He never planned a lot of things that had happened.

"No sé." Sands answered, shaking his head slightly, "No sé." (_I don't know.)_

"¿Sabe usted alguien que puede ayudar?", he suggested, trying to help out. (_Do you know someone who could help?)_

Sands resisted the urge the snort with laughter. Someone, who could help? Like who? Who would help a corrupt, CIA agent that will probably have a huge price on his head by tomorrow from the remaining cartels.

"Nadie me ayudaría." He answered with a registered sigh. He corrected himself on the wall before continuing to speak. "Usted debe ir a casa. Tu padres estarán preocupado." (_No one would help me. You should go home. Your parents will be worried.)_

There was a pause. For that moment of silence, Sands was sure the kid was going and he was being deafened by the pain. Then, he heard the boy's feet scarp against the sand as he shifted his weight, as if nervous.

"Yo no tengo un hogar, señor." came the nervous reply. "Qué yo significo es, tengo a no padres." (_I have no home, sir. What I mean is, I have no parents.)_

So. The kid had no home or at least didn't have any parents. This was some bad luck. Sands was sure that God was laughing at him right now. Picking a kid who had no family. This was just great. This was prefect. Here, was his one chance at being saved from a painful death, and it was dashed because little chico here didn't have parents.

"Si sobreviviremos necesitamos un lugar para permanecer y grande bandaids." Sands answered. (_You have to find a place for us to stay and some big bandaids.)_

Well, there was no way in hell he was sleeping in the street. The boy would simply have to find a place to stay and some bandages. Sands pushed himself off the wall and opened the cell phone. Well, it was worth a try. He dialed the number of the hotel near here. The phone rang. 'About fucking time too.' Sands thought to himself.

"Hello señor. I'd like to rent a two bed room for the night."

El walked steadily across town after seeing the president off. Now, he was sure that the cartel was going to fall. With Mexico's people backing the president, there was no way the cartel was winning this war.

El stuffed the sash that had Mexico's colors on it into his pocket. He would carry this around for the rest of his life, he was sure of it. He now knew what he had to live for. Mexico.

El turned the corner and found something he did not expect to see. The agent, the one pulling the strings behind some of the most dangerous men in all of Mexico, the man who could make anyone shudder, was being led away by a small boy in a bright yellow shirt. El's brows came together in a thoughtful action as he watching this happen. Something so weird should never be spotted.

'What is he doing in the city?' El questioned to himself. He decided to follow the weird duo and find out what he could from this.

Only after trailing Sands for three blocks, did he notice that Sands was badly limping and he kept running into low hanging window sills. El walked a little faster to catch a good view of the Agent, when Sands turned on a dime, aiming a gun right at El's head.

"Sands." El said before he could stop himself. Sands did not lower his gun, but his finger relaxed on the trigger.

"El.. the man I wanted to speak to. How did the Coup go?"

"The cartel... is no more." El said, lowering his arms from their 'surrender' position. He, after all, did not have a loaded gun in his handsat the moment.

"Finally, some good news." Sands mumbled. "Nice chatting with you El, but I must run along now. I have things to do and people to corrupt." he lowered his gun and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Vaya adelante." (_let's go_)

The boy took a glance at El, before moving. Sands turned around and walked with him, his hand never leaving the kid's shoulder.

"And what about you, Sands?" El questioned, making the agent stop.

"What about me, what?" Sands questioned, his voice slightly faint but nerved.

"How did... everything go for you?" El inquired, wondering why the Agent had blood on his face and was shot full of holes.

"I got my eyes drilled out, my bank accounts frozen and lost all contact to America. I'm fucking peachy." Sands replied with a cocky attitude and a smile to match. But, it soon faded as the Agent fainted from the blood loss.

El rushed forward on instinct, barely able to stop the Agent's head from hitting the hard ground.

(tis a bit tricky, but I step back in the story and take it from Sands POV)

Someone was trailing them. Those heavy feet andjingling chainshad been following them for a few blocks now. Sands was sure that this man was trailing them for the cartel.

'I guess they are pissed about me killing one of their leaders.' Sands thought with a twisted smirk. His legs shook a little, but he corrected himself quickly, trying not to look like he was struggling. Just as they turned around another corner, Sands turned quickly and pulled his gun with all intentions of shooting the person who dared to follow him.

"Sands." Said the voice.

Sands could easily tell that the rough voice he heard was El's. It was very distinguished and held itself apart from all others. Not that Sands cared or anything. It was just some bit of observation information that seemed to stick to him because of his training.

Sands straighted himself again, trying to at least look less pitiful then he thought he looked. Well, this could be a perk to finding El at this moment. He could drain the man for information, then leave with some pride and knowledge.

"El.. the man I wanted to speak to. How did the Coup go?" His face slightly grim. There was a slight pause. Sands wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

"The cartel... is no more." came the good news.

Now, Sands would be lying if he said he wasn't on the verge of doing a Snoopy dance. But, of course, he had to keep control of everything. No need to let the Mariachi see the complete happiness.

"Finally some good news." There. That sounded slightly disinterested. Sands could pat himself on the back for his performances. Then again.. he felt kind of dizzy right now. "Nice chatting with you El, but I must run along now. I have things to do and people to corrupt."

He lowered his gun from the Mariachi. Sands, still used to the habit of looking to wards the person he wanted to speak too, looked where the kid would be about. "Vaya adelante." (_let's go_)

The kid helped him go to wards the hotel he had just reserved a night's stay in. Sands wasn't stupid. The cartel members that were left would be dying to get their hands on him. He had to keep moving, despite his wounds.

"And what about you Sands?" El had asked. Sands held back a snort of laughter. Just, what the hell was that supposed to mean? Did El really give two shits about what happened to him?

"What about me, what?"

"How did... everything go for you?" El answered. Sands was sure he was going to ask, how did he become blind, but it seemed the Mariachi was at least smart enough not to ask the question directly. If he had, Sands would have put a bullet in his head for it.

"I got my eyes drilled out, my bank accounts frozen and lost all contact to America. I'm fucking peachy." Sands answered. Well, if you have to speak cocky, you have to look cocky. Besides, at least this way a lot of the questions El was sure to ask were out of the way.

Now, time to find that damned Hotel so he could get some damned rest. Speaking of rest... that sounded like a good idea. The world of darkness became suddenly numb as his mind gave way to sleep, while he was still standing.

"¿Qué está equivocado con él?", The boy asked with concern for Sands' safety. (_Is he going to be ok?)_

"Pérdida de sangre. ¿Dónde estaba usted dos van?", El hoisted the Agent over his shoulder. (_I don't know. Do you two have aplace to stay?)_

"Un hotel. No es distante." The boy said, pointing further down the road to the shady looking hotel. (_A hotel. It's not far_)

El nodded and they boy sped walked to the hotel. El shifted the agent on his shoulder so he could open the door. The boy went in first, followed by El. El walked up to the desk, wondering what he was going to say. He had a man over his shoulder who was bleeding freely and a boy who kept glancing uncertainly up at El.

"..Do you have a reservation?" The man asked, passing looks to the three strangers.

"Do you have one for a 'Sands'?" El questioned.

"Yes. He just called in... is that him?" The man questioned, pointing to the agent over El's shoulder.

"Yes. He got in between a gun fight during the Coup. What room is he in?" El questioned, not wanting to waste any time with questions nor with a clueless desk clerk.

"Of course. Room 12, second floor. Here are two keys." He said, handing him the keys.

"Thank you." El said, taking the keys and quickly going up the stairs with the little boy following behind him.

The clerk glanced up at the odd pair. Certainly, the cartel would be looking for at least one of them. The clerk pulled out a phone and dialed a number.

"I would like to speak to the man in charge. I might have some interesting information for you."

sighs Hello all. I know. Lots of Spanish. It will be toned down with the Spanish. The next chapter barely has any spanish in it. The translations in () aren't DIRECT translations. They are the basics of what you need. When I wrote this I was slightly better at spanish. Besides, if you are confused, I left huge clues in the sentences following after the spanish of what the words mean. Please leave a comment. Tis all I ask for.


	2. Chapter Two: Mexican

**By Myself**

Chapter Two

Mexican

The boy in the yellow shirt lead the way, quickly going to the door and opening it for the odd pair behind him. El was slightly amused at the idea of this boy wanting to help the corrupt Agent out. Maybe it was that the boy had a kind heart? or maybe, the boy did not know any better? It was most likely a combination of the two. Then again, El couldn't judge on who was helping the corrupt Agent out because he was in fact, doing that exact same thing.

El glanced around the room, his nose nearly running from his face from the pure scent. It smelt of strong beer and puke. A very nasty mixture of smells, that El did find it familiar from his many days of depression. The room was also in shambles from all the people who had used it prior to them. It was in a tacky green color with two, flattened and over used mattresses on two pipe framed beds. The comforter looked like it had been attacked by rabid dogs on more then one occasion. The pillows, well, looked like sheets of paper because of how thin they were. But, to all the draw backs of this small, cramped place, it did have a desk pushed against the wall with two chairs. That was plus. And a small bathroom, that looked slightly clean.

El put Sands down on the first bed. He turned to his young companion. "Bandaids."

The boy nodded and quickly went into the bathroom to find something that would help. While the boy attended to the request, El looked over Sands. The man who had brought this horrible mess to El's doorstep was laying, blacked out on a bed in front of him and near death. It could be ever so easy to end Sands' life and make sure the man never schemed against the El Presidente's life ever again.

Almost, as if acting on the thought, one of El's hands crept out and reached to wards the man's neck. El watched, almost as if he were watching a horror movie on TV, as his hand inches it way closer to the man's neck. El licked his lips, wanting to tell himself to stop. Wanting to tell himself it was wrong to harm this man. He wanted to believe so badly that this man could be saved, if he was patient enough. He wanted to believe that all men could become good. That maybe, Sands had a heart after all.

Sweat began to start on El's brows as the tips of his fingers brushed against the man's neck. Sands took a sharp intake of breath as if in pain. El ripped his hand back as if he had been burned. That look of pain that crossed Sands' face. He could never forgive himself if he caused such a look to cross over the man's face. It just wasn't in El to harm this man who had not done anything directly wrong.

El sighed as he finally felt like himself again. He was almost driven to harm the man he wished to help. Such a thing would be watched from now on when he was around the Agent. El noted, he pulled his hand back just in time as the boy returned with gauze. El took it from his hands and placed it on the bed beside the Agent. El opened the night stand and found a pair of scissors. He could use these.

El took a breath as he got to work on the Agent while the yellow shirted boy hovered over his shoulder the whole time.

Sands was pretty sure that the cartel had gotten to him. That had to be it. The pain surging through his body right now could only be brought on by someone who wished him harm. Even without eyes, Sands could see bright colors flashing in his mind and alerting him that not all was right in the world. It took Sands a full minutes before he finally let out the scream he was trying to hide from his captures.

As El finished all the wrappings on Sands' arm and legs, he reached his hands to his head. He removed the man's sunglasses. He almost dropped them in surprise. Of course El knew that the cartel had done things unspeakable and caused a lot of people to lose parts of their body, but this was unsightly. This... was inhuman. They had ripped his eyes balls out, none too carefully either, as they apparently removed his eyelids too.

El heard the boy take a step back wards from the startling view, but that was all. The boy apparently, had seen this before El had. El took a breath before he cleaned the Agent's face from all the dried blood, being careful not to tug on the skin which would open the wounds around the empty sockets.

After he had made a pile of clothes beside them, all of them covered in blood, he dipped the softest cloth they had, which was part of El's white shirt, into a bowl of water. He rung it out and gently moved in to wards Sands' sockets. He dipped a small corner into the empty place and preceded to clean the wounds. El was so intent on cleaning the wounds from dust and other particles that had found their way in there, that he jumped five feet in the air from the horrible, bloody scream Sands let out.

El also jumped back and he bumped into the kid. The boy fell back wards, nearly knocking his head onto the small desk in the room.

"Son of a bitch." El exclaimed as he felt his back hit the corner of the end table. He sat on the floor, continuously rubbing the spot until the bright colors stopped dancing in his vision. He shook his head and stood up, finding the boy on the other side of the bed, holding the Agent's hand.

_"Señor.." _The boy said in a small whisper. The worried expression on his face reminded El of a mother looking at a sick child.

Before his mind could drift into lost memories, El stepped up to the bed and grabbed the dropped cloth, which was laying across Sands' chest. He dipped it back into the water, watching it turn into a light pink color, before going back to work on the man's face.

El cringed as he saw Sands getting ready for another scream. He moved away from the Agent and looked around the room for something useful. El's eyes almost lit up as he grabbed an old book from the desk table.

"Sands... I need you to open your mouth and bite on this book instead of yelling." El explained as he placed the binding of the book near Sands' lips. Sands tightened his lips so the book could not slip into his mouth. "The cartel will find us if they hear you."

Sands seemed to think if over, before opening his mouth a little. El slipped the book in before Sands could change his mind. Sands teeth clamped down on the book as he visually showed the pain he was in. His teeth were already braking through the cover.

El knew he had to work fast, yet carefully. He moved as fast as he could without being sloppy over his work, as he dipped the cloth into Sands' eye socket again. This time, he hear the book crinkle under the pressure Sands was putting it in. The blood soaked into the cloth, slowly crawling up the fabric as El watched. The bleeding should have stopped by now. Something was wrong with the wound and El knew it. Even something as important as the eyes being gone, should not cause so much blood since the veins going to the eyes were small and would easily clot.

El turned on the small lamp on the bedside table and pointed it to wards Sands. This was as good as light as he was getting. He searched the wound with his eyes as he found a small piece of metal in each socket. It looked like it was jabbed into the vein, making it stay open so Sands would bleed to death without any help. Of course the cartel would assume no one would help the man, so he would have a slow death.

'May god forgive me.' El thought, before he reached it with his bare hands. His finger tips barely touched the object and it made Sands bite down so hard on the book, El was sure the man was going to brake his teeth. He took a breath and took the metal out of Sands' left socket as quickly as he could. Blood poured from the wound as a muffled scream from Sands mixed with the sound of the boy fainting next to him.

El looked at his hand as he saw the inch long metal piece a second before he tossed it away. He moved to the other side of the bed so he could see the other piece better. He reached down and instead of pulling out, he placed a hand on Sands' shoulder. "I have to get the other one out. I'll let you prepare for this one."

To Sands' surprise, it was El who was doing all the horrible things to him. This pain was beyond what the cartel had given him when they took his eyes out. It was surging pain. Then again, it only hurt worse because the drugs were starting to wear off. And the damn book tasted awful, but it was better then biting his tongue off.

And just what the hell was he pulling out? His brain?! It hurt like hell and he wanted to do that to his other socket? Sands was close to sitting up and beating the crap out of El. If only he had the strength, he would. He gave a nod and waited for the other half of his brain to scream in pain.

El saw the small nod and Sands' teeth ready to stifle the cry that was sure to erupt from his throat. El reached forward and as quickly as he could, got the metal piece out. He was about to throw it aside, when shuffling of many feet were making their way up the stairs to wards their room.

El cursed his luck as he tucked whatever was in his hands into his pockets. He would worry about everything later. Right now, he needed to get everyone out of there and fast. 


	3. Chapter Three: Escape

By Myself

Chapter Three

Escape

The footsteps were drawing near to the door, as El looked frantically around the room. El quickly realized what type of situation he was in at the moment. He was on the second floor of a run down motel with two blacked out people, one a full grown man, the other a boy. Not only that, but the remaning cartel members were closing in on the only exit that would be safe for them to use. His case with his guns was left behind with his friends for the time being and he only carried one gun with him that had limited ammo. This was sure a case for the files. Now... how was he going to escape?

The cartel members nodded to one another as they moved closer to number 12. Each was sporting a hand gun with a silencer on it, as not to alert anyone to their shoot out. Not that it really mattered after everything that had happened today. The leader, looked back at his friends and nodded. The man closest to the door, turned and kicked the door in with such a force that the door frame broke. He aimed his gun into the room before stepping in, only to be hit in the face with a chair.

The man stumbled back wards before falling to the ground, but not before El, grabbed his hand gun. El pointed it at the men waiting to kill them, and shot one in the chest before turning back into the room just as two bullets went by his head. El waited until the bullets stopped flying before turning the small corner and shooting, almost blindly, at the men. He heard a 'thud' from someone falling. At least he was able to get two guys.

'Now.. How many were there out there?' El thought to himself. It was so sudden, he could only make out five guys. He just took out two, so that left three armed men with more ammo then himself. 'God.. if I need your help I ask for it... please... help me now.'

El took a deep, cooling breath before glancing around the room. He did have a small desk made of cheap wood left. He could... They might be expecting that... then again.. El grabbed the desk and went quickly back to the corner, hearing their footsteps drawing closer to the room. He held the chair with one arm and his gun in the other. He turned the corner, one bullet already cracked into the wooden desk as he did. El opened fire on the men on the staircase.

El had taken down the other two, but the third one was right around the corner, probably reloading his gum by the echoing click El heard. The desk was of no use now that it was completely shot up and barely holding together. El tossed it aside, and pressed his back against the opposite wall of the door. He had just enough room to shoot the last guy without him seeing El for a split second. El aimed his gun and when the man turned the corner to shoot El, El pulled his trigger. click

"Just great..." El mumbled. He was out of ammo, but the man down the stairs wasn't. Bullets flew at El as he pressed himself against the wall as close as he could trying to avoid the bullets. He couldn't risk going back into the room. The man was shooting wildly in the hallway. Just as El saw the man turn his gun closer to El's current position, a bullet landed in the man's skull.

El turned his head in confusion to wards the Hotel room, to see Sands, shaking, standing with a loaded pistol with a silencer on it. His sunglasses were back in place, though blood was now covering abut a good three fourths of his face. He turned his head slightly to the side, as if waiting to hear something. When no sound was made at all, other then Sand's shaking breathing, he spoke up.

"El...?" For the first time since El had met this guy, Sands sounded slightly unnerved.

"I'm here." El said, breathing with relief. Sands' head turned right to El's position in a snap so fast that El was sure he was on the verge of braking his neck.

"We need to leave." Sands said simply. "The cartel will be after us... even more so... now.." Sands' voice drifted as his body swayed due to the blood loss he suffered through the day. El rushed forward and caught the agent right before he fell. Then, he felt a gun pressed against his side. It was Sands, gun. "I swear, if you ever try to pull something from my face again without telling me first, I will shoot your nuts off and cut off your hands. _Comprende?"_

El took a gulp as the gun lowered to the spot between his legs with the end dangerously close. _"Sí."_

Sands gave him a grin, knowing he won this round without any trouble. Sands lowered his gun and leaned heavily against El no longer having his former strength. El sighed as he was left to deal with their current situation all by himself again. "This just isn't my day."

The footsteps were drawing near to the door, as El looked frantically around the room. El quickly realized what type of situation he was in at the moment. He was on the second floor of a run down motel with two blacked out people, one a full grown man, the other a boy. Not only that, but the remaning cartel members were closing in on the only exit that would be safe for them to use. His case with his guns was left behind with his friends for the time being and he only carried one gun with him that had limited ammo. This was sure a case for the files. Now... how was he going to escape?The cartel members nodded to one another as they moved closer to number 12. Each was sporting a hand gun with a silencer on it, as not to alert anyone to their shoot out. Not that it really mattered after everything that had happened today. The leader, looked back at his friends and nodded. The man closest to the door, turned and kicked the door in with such a force that the door frame broke. He aimed his gun into the room before stepping in, only to be hit in the face with a chair. The man stumbled back wards before falling to the ground, but not before El, grabbed his hand gun. El pointed it at the men waiting to kill them, and shot one in the chest before turning back into the room just as two bullets went by his head. El waited until the bullets stopped flying before turning the small corner and shooting, almost blindly, at the men. He heard a 'thud' from someone falling. At least he was able to get two guys. 'Now.. How many were there out there?' El thought to himself. It was so sudden, he could only make out five guys. He just took out two, so that left three armed men with more ammo then himself. 'God.. if I need your help I ask for it... please... help me now.' El took a deep, cooling breath before glancing around the room. He did have a small desk made of cheap wood left. He could... They might be expecting that... then again.. El grabbed the desk and went quickly back to the corner, hearing their footsteps drawing closer to the room. He held the chair with one arm and his gun in the other. He turned the corner, one bullet already cracked into the wooden desk as he did. El opened fire on the men on the staircase.El had taken down the other two, but the third one was right around the corner, probably reloading his gum by the echoing click El heard. The desk was of no use now that it was completely shot up and barely holding together. El tossed it aside, and pressed his back against the opposite wall of the door. He had just enough room to shoot the last guy without him seeing El for a split second. El aimed his gun and when the man turned the corner to shoot El, El pulled his trigger. click"Just great..." El mumbled. He was out of ammo, but the man down the stairs wasn't. Bullets flew at El as he pressed himself against the wall as close as he could trying to avoid the bullets. He couldn't risk going back into the room. The man was shooting wildly in the hallway. Just as El saw the man turn his gun closer to El's current position, a bullet landed in the man's skull. El turned his head in confusion to wards the Hotel room, to see Sands, shaking, standing with a loaded pistol with a silencer on it. His sunglasses were back in place, though blood was now covering abut a good three fourths of his face. He turned his head slightly to the side, as if waiting to hear something. When no sound was made at all, other then Sand's shaking breathing, he spoke up."El...?" For the first time since El had met this guy, Sands sounded slightly unnerved."I'm here." El said, breathing with relief. Sands' head turned right to El's position in a snap so fast that El was sure he was on the verge of braking his neck. "We need to leave." Sands said simply. "The cartel will be after us... even more so... now.." Sands' voice drifted as his body swayed due to the blood loss he suffered through the day. El rushed forward and caught the agent right before he fell. Then, he felt a gun pressed against his side. It was Sands, gun. "I swear, if you ever try to pull something from my face again without telling me first, I will shoot your nuts off and cut off your hands. El took a gulp as the gun lowered to the spot between his legs with the end dangerously close. Sands gave him a grin, knowing he won this round without any trouble. Sands lowered his gun and leaned heavily against El no longer having his former strength. El sighed as he was left to deal with their current situation all by himself again. "This just isn't my day." 


	4. Chapter Four: Hiding

Hello reviewers! Erm... well, I did make a mistake last chapter and put the first chapter at the end. I corrected it and hopefully, will update the last chapter for me. I have an author's note at the end. See ya there!

**By Myself**

Chapter Four

Hiding 

El had barely formed an idea of how to get out of the hotel and succeed when more cartel members joined the hotel raid. El made sure that Sands and the boy were safe in the back seat of the 'borrowed' car. He shifted gears and quickly sped off to a place where he knew they would be safe. A place no one would look for them. A place that El wasn't sure they would be allowed to stay.

It had been Sands' suggestion for their hide out. El was hardly in a position to decline a hide out and Sands knew that. The Agent had mumbled an address, one he was probably used to looking at from all the tracking he did, trying to find the man who lived there. It seemed as if Sands knew everything that was happening at all times, El noted. Even though El was driving and Sands had no eyes, Sands would occational creep up with a bit of information, like a tree or sign near by that El should make a turn at. El would soon learn, this was only the tip of the iceberg from the one named Sands.

"You bring me, the man who's been trying to corrupt the world, killed innocent people, plotted to let the president be killed and took us from our peaceful lives and expect me to just open my door to him? And not only him, but El, as in the legendary El Marachi, is wanting to hide out in MY house?" Jorge said, not believing that El Marachi, Agent Sands of the CIA and a boy in a yellow shirt were standing right infront of his house, asking for refuge. If the sitution wasn't happening to him, he may have found it funny.

"You're our only true hope right now. I can not go around, carring an Agent with holes in him and an innocent boy with the cartel after me. It would only get them killed." El explained. He had stayed calm through Jorge's rant. He was prepared for the man to say such things. El would probably be the same way in his position. But, the wide-eyed expression, followed by strict silence, then soon replaced by yelling was something that El had not expected from the man.

Jorge ran a hand over his balding skull and mumbled some curses under his breath in Spanish. He ushered El and the strange group inside his house and shut the door. He then locked it with several Ace locks, before turning around.

"And what about you? You're not going out to face the cartel alone." He gave him a watchful eye. "You know the remaining cartel are going to be in a killing spree, wanting to kill every guy that ever crossed them in order to take position as the leader."

"I was already aware of that." El said, placing Sands in a chair. Sands had passed out somewhere between the driveway and the door at Jorge's house. The boy had stayed quiet and was following El like a lost puppy-dog. He seldomly glanced up but refused to make eye contact with either man.

"So, what are you planning on doing? Certainly not going out to face them by yourself. Or, are you waiting for our good agent to heal, then let him be the one to put the bullet in your back?" Jorge shifted his weight as he remained by the door, wanting El to give him a straight answer.

"If you say so." Was El's only answer as he walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Jorge asked as El unlocked the door and stepped outside.

El turned his head slightly and stopped walking. He turned his face towards Jorge, making Jorge wish he didn't ask because El's eyes were no longer the slightly warmed brown, but a cold black.

"To get my guitar." And he shut the door, leaving Jorge to decide what to do next.

Jorge sighed as he figured he had no other choice to make other then helping the agent. Jorge muttered more curses in spanish as he walked to the agent. He hoisted Sands up by his good arm and put it over his shoulder. Jorge could feel his muscles try to stop him from the action since they had clearly seen better days. He let out a breath of relief as he felt Sands stir enough to hold part of his own weight.

"Chicho... follow us." Sands muttered to the boy in the yellow shirt. The boy nodded and followed the two into a small room on the other side of the small house. Jorge placed Sands on the bed.

"Lay still. I have to check your wounds." He said. "The First Aid kit is in the kitchen. I'll be right back."

"You do that." Sands said, holding one hand over his wounded arm. It was still stinging. Out of all of his bullet wounds, this one hurt the worst.

Dispite El's treatment on the wounds, they still stung from the movement from the escape and the car ride. Sands groaned as a sharp pain swept over his body. Every pore felt the pain and the heat from the room.

"_Señor..?" _the boy questioned as he put a tentive hand on Sands' shoulder.

"Open a window." Sands instructed.

He knew it was a risk, opening a window in a place full of cartel member swarming about like bees to a nest was incredibly stupid. But the burning all over his body was starting to cloud his mind with steam.

The boy moved across the room and reached out a hand to open the window, only to be stopped by Jorge.

"_Qué le hace piensa que usted hace_?" Jorge asked, wondering if he should trust this boy. "_Son usted tratando de obtenernos todo matado_?" (_What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to get us killed?_)

"_No Señor. Sólo en abra la ventana_." He replied, looking at the window. (_No sir. Only to open the window._)

"_No_." Jorge said firmly, letting the boy go. He crossed the room and placed the first aid kit on the night stand. "The damn cartel will be watching for that." He muttered to himself. He looked at the boy with firmness in his eyes. "_Aleje desde el ventanas y no mueva la espalda de cortinas_." (_Stay away from the windows and do not move the curtains back_.)

The boy stood by the window. He looked at Sands for guidance, but Sands was too busy dealing with the pain his body was in to help the poor Mexican boy standing helpless by the window. He didn't know if he should go against Jorge or not.

"¿Por qué se para todavía usted allí? Venga aquí y ayúdeme." Jorge said, wanting an excuse to keep an eye on him. (_Why are you standing there? Come here and help me_.)

." Jorge said, wanting an excuse to keep an eye on him. (.) 

"Kid..." Sands mumbled. "It's hot in here... too hot..window.. _ábralo_..." (_open it_)

Jorge placed his hand on Sands' forehead, only to rip it away, "He's burning up."

He opened the kit and searched for any type of fever medicine. Jorge knew it was an infection that caused the fever, but the infection was the lesser problem right now. Sands' tempature was growing and probably close to the place where the sense started to suffer from the pure heat of the body. Jorge had to work quickly, or Sands could possibly loose himself in the fever.

He found an extra strength fever medicine that was made for childer. The ex-FBI agent cursed his luck. All the others were empty. He only had the chiildern's medicine to help the fever.

"Just my luck." He muttered to himself.

He decided the best thing to do, was to double the dosage in order for it to work on Sands. He atleast counted himself lucky to have found SOMETHING to give Sands.

He titled Sands' head back and put the cap full of the medicine liquid to his lips. "Drink this." Jorge said as he tilted the cap. Sands gave in and swollowed the liquid, though it was awful and bitter.

Jorge filled the cap once more and put it to Sands' lips. Sands pierved his lips shut as the distrasteful liquid touched his lips once more. He refused to have that fowl tasting stuff put back into his mouth. No matter what anyone said to him.

"You need to take it." Jorge insisted, not wanting to sit here all day because Sands refused to take the second half of the medicine.

Sands turned his head to the side, not willing to give up this battle. He would not have that stuff put back in his mouth and that, at least, was something he was in control of.

"Fine. You don't want me help. That's fine with me. But when that fever is raging, you'll come around to my point of view." Jorge said.

Sands gave a witty smile, knowing he had won this battle. Even while he was barely able to move, he was still in control of something. He liked it that way. He liked being in control. And that was the way it was going to stay. No matter what happened.

Jorge shook his head and pulled out all the medcial supplies in the kit. He sighed. He was going to have a long day inhead of him. That he was sure.

**Author's Note- **I would like to thank all my reviewers!

susan-Thank you! You're my first reviewer too. And such a nice review to get.

Mina aka: Mockingbird- ha. You couldn't DARE threaten me with my sexy blind agent as protection! MWAHAHA!

AngelGardian666- Yes. Yummy slash for the whole family to enjoy. Though, I love the 'took-forver-but-way-worth-it slash then the sudden ones that make almost no sence, but give you yummy rated R scenes. Those are good for quick reading, but the long, drawn out ones are just... more satisifing I think.

Kerttu- Of course I shall write more! I am already planning up to 10 chapters and hope to get it to about chapter 20 before I even begin to get Sands and El into slashy goodness.

Starr Dust- I'm glad you like the spanish! Though, my spanish is way off in this fic. I know a lot more now that I'm in Spanish class again, and can only blush in shame at how bad I wrote the Spanish in the chapters. I was trying to stay close to the movie, but not so close that the story can't breath on it's own. El Mariachi, Desperdo and Once Upon a Time in Meixco have the same theme in which, someone WILL tell a story at some point and expect the unexpected. Which, happen to be my favorite things to write about. So, this story was made for me... erm... actually... it's the other way around. And sorry that you were shuddering! I actually got the goosebumps reading my own chapter. How weird is that?

JohnnyDEPPmaniac- I have you hooked do I? Mwahahahaha! Yes! Follow the baited slash! mwahaha!

Marash- Very interesting? Thank you. I try to be.

Horga- I know! I love to post chapters where at the end of the chapter, you're left hanging! If you're not, then if I take too long to write the next chapter, you would be able to move on to something else and leave my story! GAH! That would be horrible! Well... for me it would be...

vanillafluffy- hahahaha! I actually had that picture in my head! Since I stay in hotels sometimes for random reasons (mainly anime conventions) I always see this bible in the night stand. I figured that would be their best bet since I wrote myself into a corner where Sands was going to scream and El had to stop him. That was the only thing that came to mind as a good thing to use, since I didn't want poor Sands biting off his tongue! Yes... sands is having a bad day isn't he? Well, he shall have good days. Everyone has good days. It may take a few chapters to get to a good day, but he shall have one!

I believe that is all my reviewers. Sorry if I skipped you! I will continue to go author notes every chapter or every other chapter. But if you review, you will have your name in one chapter. Thank you for all of your kind support! I really love hearing from everyone. Good night!


	5. Chapter Five: Nightmares

**By Myself**

**Chapter Five**

**Nightmares**

_Grass. Wet grass. That was what Sands was laying on. He was staring up at the sky, which swirled with puffy clouds and smeared with the bright sun. A soft wind blew and made his hair tickle his face. _

_This... was strange. Sands had remembered being in Mexico. Wet grass and puffy clouded skies were the last things you would see there. So, he sat up and noticed the world wasn't how it should be. He got to his feet and looked around the scene. _

_He was in a Field. A Field that was familiar to him from his early childhood. He would often come here with... _

_"Sheldon!" A boy's voice said. Sands turned and found that he was looking at his brother. His twin brother, Morton. "Sheldon. You almost left me behind!"_

_"I...I'm sorry.." He said, not knowing what else to say. He was looking at his twin brother. The one, who couldn't possible be here and was no older then six! That meant.. Sands looked down and saw that he was also a six year old. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He patted his head and felt the baseball cap he always used to wear there. He remembered that he won it at a carnival. _

_"Come on! Let's go!" Morton said, running off into the nearby woods._

_"Mort! Wait!" Sheldon cried out, chasing after his twin. He remembered it all too clearly now. This wasn't a safe place. This was an evil place. The puffy clouds and wet glass were long gone and all that was left was dead trees with insects crawling all over them. "MORT!"_

_Sheldon, or Sands as we know him, ran faster into the woods, ignoring the branches. He had amazingly grown into a fifteen year old. But that didn't matter. What mattered was finding his brother. That's all that mattered._

_Sands ran towards the opening in the woods and came upon the scene that he never expected but saw in every nightmare from the age fifteen and up. His brother's dead body lay next to his mother's. Sands felt his knees give way. This was his nightmare. Seeing what his father had done to his lovely mother and twin brother. Both, he had loved dearly and both slaughtered with an old butcher knife. _

_"So, you came to join the party just in time, Sheldon." Came the sinister voice of his father from behind. "You'll be with them soon enough."_

_Sands felt his body being pulled and stretched on a desert ground, burning from the heat of the baked stone. He would have let out a scream of surprise from the sudden shock, but voice was gone. He was yelling, that he was sure of, but not sound was coming out. He was no longer in the woods with his dead mother and Brother's bodies, but was in the Mexico desert. And strangely enough, he was unable to move from the spot he lay in. His wrists and ankles felt like stones. They were unmovable._

_The heat of the sun beamed down on him as he lay there, panting from the experience he had just had. His worst memory... was more fearful then having his eyes drilled out. But, maybe it was second to worst. Having his eyes gone made him live in darkness. And darkness brought friends._

_Suddenly, two dark figures loomed over him. One, was his father. The other, was Ajedrez. She held a pistol in one hand and a drill in the other. His father, held a crowbar along with two wires. _

_"What should we do first?" Ajedrez questioned in an echoing voice. Like a voice you hear at the end of a tunnel._

_"Don't you lay a hand on me!" Sands tried to shout, but nothing came out of his mouth._

_"I say, we shoot off his fingers, one by one, then drill out his eyes. Lastly, we can slowly choke him with these wires after beating him senseless." His father said with a sinister smile on his lips. "The little bastard refusing to die sometimes. So, let's make this nice and slow."_

_"It's a plan." Ajedrez smirked as she moved in._

_Sands struggled to move himself, but he could not move an inch! He couldn't control it! He couldn't stop what was about to happen! He couldn't do anything! He was useless. Completely useless!_

_"Finally... you get it boy." His father sneered as if he read his thoughts. "You're useless."_

_"I'm... useless.." Sands mumbled back, his voice sounding like a child's before seeing his father and Ajedrez descend on him._

**(End of Dream)**

Sands woke up with a gasp as he sat straight up and tired to open his eyes. Panic swept over him when he could not see anything and he did not know where he was. He first instinct was to grab whatever was on eyes, off. He reached up a hand to rip away the clothe that sealed his vision, when he felt a sharp pain travel though his head from the sudden contact. Sands gasped in pain and nearly crumpled on the... bed was it?.. and passed out from it.

"Sands?" Came the voice of El from his left. He sounded close. Very close.

Sands didn't care whether he was in control or not. He needed to vent and by all means, why not on El? Sands took a swing at El and connected within a hair of his jaw line. He felt the shift in weight on the bed as El had moved just in time to get out of the way of Sands' sudden attack.

El knew a fight when he saw one and Sands was up for a fight, even if his body wasn't. El grabbed Sand's wrist and barely dodged the left jab that Sands threw at him. He struggled to over-come Sands, though it was not that hard. Sands had been passed out for three days and was still weak from hunger, thirst and the morphine that had to pump into his veins to keep Sands from screaming in his sleep.

El finally pinned Sands down on the bed and let a few minutes pass before he said or moved. Sands needed some time to catch his breath and El was glad to give it to him. Even while Sands was drugged up, in terrible pain and probably insane from the horrid visions of his nightmares, he was still as dangerous as ever. El would have to remember that.

"Now... would you mind telling me WHAT THE HELL YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" El questioned, yelling the last bit close to Sands' ear.

Sands couldn't help but wince at the voice that now made his ear pound in pain.

"Just getting some frustrations out." Sands replied, not really wanting El to know why he was so eager for a fight right now. In his dream, he was helpless and unable to fight. While he was awake, he could swing punches and at least feel a little better knowing he could hit the legendary El Mariachi.

"Did I piss you off somehow?" El asked, still pinning Sands down.

"Not really." Sands gave a twisted little smile. "In fact, I rather enjoy your company."

El gave a sigh, knowing he would not get any straight answers from Sands. He didn't even ask if Sands would continue the fight, when he released his hold on Sands and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well, will you mind at least telling me why you screamed 'I'm useless?'"

'Shit! Did I say that out loud?' Sands thought to himself. He must have. This was great. Now, El had a key bit of information that he could use, if he was smart enough to use it. Sands knew it was deadly to let someone in. He did it once and wasn't in a hurry to do it once more.

Sands shrugged as if he had no idea what El was talking about.

"I just saved your life... I think you can trust me with a small bit of information like that." El said, running a hand through his long hair. "I think it's the least that you owe me."

Well... El did have a point. Not that Sands would ever admit it. "It's... nothing." Sands said, turning his head away from El.

"If it were nothing, you would not scream like that." El said. He titled his head a bit. "I know that you do not scream for nothing."

Sands smirked at the hidden meaning behind it. Even if El didn't know it was there. But the humor was suddenly lost when the boy entered the room.

_"Señor!"_ The boy shouted, racing across the room and almost throwing himself in Sands' surprised arms. _"Qué pasa, señor?"_ (You ok, sir?)

_"Si."_ Sands answered, patting the boy's back twice to ease how awkward he felt at that moment. Never being hugged for about ten years, has that effect on one's self.

"Go get Jorge." El told the boy. He nodded and ran off out of the room, but not before looking back at Sands, one more time with a smile on his face. "You know, that kid really looks up to you."

"That's only because he has a bad judge of character." Sands said with a snort.

"That may be.." El said, trailing off.

Sands turned his head to wards him and titled his head this time. "And what the fuck are you trying to get at?"

El shrugged. "Merely that he might have a bad judge of character... or... a rather fine sense of unrefined goodness."

"Are you TRYING to make me shoot you?" Sands questioned, but didn't expect an answer.

"That's only if you had your gun still.. then I would be worried." El said in a slightly uplifting voice. "Besides, I doubt you'd shoot me right now. You still need me."

Sands gritted his teeth. So what if he needed someone right now? He would also need some mice to play with. And that was the end of that.

"I see you've come back to your senses." Jorge commented. He leaned against the door frame of the room, not sure whether he should intrude on the duo or not. The little dog he promised to care for, was finding it's way around Jorge's feet.

"I swear if you try to shove more of that horrible stuff down my thro-" But sands was cut off.

"Like Hell I would try it again." Jorge said, crossing his arms. "You're a pain in the ass to deal with, even while asleep. You kept trying to hit me every time I tried to wake you up."

Sands gave a little smile. "Well, seems like I wasn't all that out of it."

"And it seems, it's about time for me to be on my way." El said, slowly standing. He leaned over to the side of the bed and grabbed a crutch.

Sands heard the crutch on the floor along with the unsteady walking of El. "What the hell happened to you?" He questioned before he could stop himself.

"It's a long story." El said, trying not to stay in the room with the Agent any longer then he had to.

"As most stories are." Sands said, adding a smirk. "I have the time. It's not like I'm going to be moving anytime soon."

El gave a sigh, knowing Sands was going to get the story out of him somehow or another. El looked over to Jorge for help, but Jorge held up his hands as if to defend himself.

"I'll go make some coffee. You both could use it." He said, leaving the two and directing the boy and the dog out of the room for the two men to talk in peace.

**Author's Note-**

**Well, I must say that fanfiction has been messing with me. I KNOW I corrected a lot of things in the last two chapters and it was fine when I read it in the preview mode. Then, it shows up on the site and is all messed up. _sighs. _Well, nothing I can really do but try to go back and fix it later. I have almost no time right now due to the amount of homework I have. **

Kerttu- pure vintage Sands? YES! Thank you! I love to hear that comment! WOOT! I love meself some sexy agent. winks I tried to keep him in character. If I start to slide, it's only because he's evolving into a better person... sorta.. at least.. that's my excuse.

Starr Dust - Yeah... I know. has been messing with me lately. It seems like it hates my story or something because my other ones are fine, but this one seems to always have a problem with it...

JohnnyDEPPmaniac- hehe... well... that's a good thing, right?

Mina aka: Mockingbird- Valentine's day? Why, thank you!


	6. Chapter Six: The Spanish Musical

**By Myself**

**Chapter Six**

**The Spanish Musical**

El and Sands stayed still for a few long moments. The only thing they could hear were the fading footsteps of Jorge and the boy. As the last of the footsteps disappeared and when all that was left was pure silence, El finally made his move. He turned his head and looked at the rogue agent, who appeared to be looking back, though El was positive that the man could not see him.

He gave a sigh before turning his body around and travelling back to the bed where Sands sat. El gently sat down on the edge and placed his crutches against the bedside table. He put his hands together in a manner that looked like he was praying. He rested his hands in his lap and turned his head towards the Agent.

"Are you still with me?" Sands said in a comical voice.

"Yes." El answered.

Now that he was this close to Sands, he could see the scars that laced this man across this chest and forearms.

Since, Jorge had to get to the wound on his arm and were sure that Sands would kill them for cutting his shirt, they risked taking it off to bandage it. It also helped with cooling his fever that made Sands stay asleep for three days.

Sands was not a muscular man, nor was he without muscle. He was lanky and his limbs were thinner then most. His muscles were about the only things that thickened his arms at all. Not a trace of fat on them. His chest wasn't the muscular, well built chest El imagined the Agent having, but was thin like the rest of him. It seemed that Sands, without his guns, looked very helpless. If El had not known the Agent better then that, the thought of Sands being helpless would catch his mind off guard.

"So... are you going to tell me or make me die of boredom sitting here?" Sands questioned, leaning against the bedframe. He had proped himself up against the bedpost with his pillow. He looked rather comfortable, sitting there.

El nodded his head, forgetting for a moment that Sands could not see him. "Well, I guess I should start when I reached the next town."

000000000000000000000000

(This is strange, but everything written normally is something is past time and everything in _italics _is someting from the present time)

He left Jorge's house and hoped into the 'borrowed' car from the escape from the hotel. He slamed the door shut and rested his head against the back of the seat, sighing as he tired to remember where exactly he had gone and where he had to go.

"You forgot?"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"So, as I was saying.. I figured out where to go.."

El started the car and backed up with sped from the driver way and quickly set his eyes towards the simple town from which El was meant to spend the rest of his days in. His two friends would be visiting him soon and they would bring his case.

"Do I really need to hear all that boring crap?"

"It has something to do with what happened."

It had taken almost the whole day to reach the sleepy town and El had pulled into a shop where a few local friends made guitars. He stepped out into the quiet town. It was normally a peaceful town with little to no action at all. No guns, no violence and friendly neighbors. It was a prefect town. But right now, it was too quiet. Way too quiet.

El searched the town with his eyes and didn't spot a single person. No one was out on the streets and there were hardly any guitars hanging from the shops on display. Nothing really. Even the old chruch looked to be empty, which did not happen on a Sunday.

"Something's not right." El said to himself.

"No shit."

"Do you always intrupt people?"

"Well... not always.."

"May I continue or would you like the grace me with more of your wonderful inputs?"

"Continue."

"As I was saying..."

A gun shot rang out in the town and two armed men came out from around the corners of houses, holding semi-automatics, both pointed at El. He put his hands up in surrender as soon as he saw them. Maybe he could find out what was going on.

"What's your name," The first man asked. He had short black hair and sunglasses on. He was also smoking a cigerette and was the only one wearing a suit like a cartle member would wear.

"No abalo inglies." El answered, figuring he could play dumb into getting these guys to explain what they are doing here.

The man gave a sigh, "Te llama, Señor?"

"Me llamo... Jorge." El answered. These men did not need to know who he was just yet. El needed to figure out if there were more of these men or just these two.

"Qué vives aqui?" The man asked.

"Si. Vivo cerca de la iglesia." El answered.

"Real original name there El. And what's with saying you live near a chruch?"

"Is it possible for you to keep quiet for more then a minute?"

"Do you think this guy is telling the truth?" The first guy asked.

They looked El over.

"I think he is. He doesn't seem to be that bright.. but he is..." The Second one said.

"Is WHAT Pablo?" The First one asked.

"Well, he fits the discribtion of that guitar fello we heard about from the other cartel members." Pablo said.

"You're right. He does fit the discribtion but... one thing Pablo." The first one said.

"What?" Pablo asked.

He was then hit in the back of the head. "Do you see a guitar case on him or guns?"

Pablo rubbed the back of his head in pain. "No..."

"Then he ISN'T the guitar fello." The first one said, stubbing out his cigerette in the ground.

"oh.." Pablo responded stupidly, still rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, I guess he can go." The man said. "We still need to stay here until we find that mariachi."

"Mariachi? Me gusta musica." El said with a smile.

"Hey Pablo. I think I found someone as stupid as you." The first man said, laughing.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Pablo said, rolling his eyes at the comment. "Well, since we're the only two here, do you think anyone would mind if we tortured this guy? I mean, we can't harm the town people in case that El guy shows up."

"No." The first one said with stern conviction. "We need to keep our eyes opened, just in case that guy shows up. He killed over twenty of the cartel members by himself. There's no way I'm letting down my guard because you can't keep your mind off torture and fucking for three seconds."

"Fine." Pablo said with a disgruntled sigh. "So, I should put him in the chruch with the rest?"

"Yes." The first man said, reaching into his jacket for his cigerette pack.

"Vamanos." Pablo said, directing El to the chruch. El followed without any resistance. He needed to make sure everyone was alright first. He couldn't risk getting killed just yet because the town needed him for their survival. He would never put them in danger.

"Always gotta act the hero, huh El?"

"I never consider myself a hero."

"Why not? You go around saving everyone."

"More like killing everyone."

"Which is why I like you. Please continue."

El and Pablo headed towards the chruch and El was pushed inside to where all the people of the town were. They all greeted El once the door was closed.

"Qué pasan?" El asked.

"Si." The old man was the first the answer. "Pues, dos muchachos quieran El Mariachi."

"¿Hay más los hombres aquí?" El asked, wanting to get everything correct before he started anything.

"Creo que no." The old man answered.

"Bueno." El said. "¿Cuándo los vienen adentro?"

"Son las dos." he asnwered with a nod. "Para almuerzo."

El nodded. So, there were only two guys here. Apparently, just looking to shoot down El and win titles in the cartel. They apparently didn't hurt anyone in the town.

A plan formed in El's head. The two armed guys came in at 2 o'clock during lunch time, or giving out some food for the people, and that's when El would make his move.

"So, there were only two guys and you ended up getting hurt?"

"You had two bullet wounds and that was from one guy. Then another guy gave you a shot in your arm."

"You have a point, but I couldn't fucking SEE."

"Do I have to put soap in your mouth?"

"Only if you no longer want your knee caps."

El waited behind the doors, in the shadows. He had told everyone what he was going to do and that as soon as both men were in the doorway, to duck under cover because there was going to be some shooting in the place.

Two o'clock had rolled around as the sounds of the bells on the chruch clock rung to let the town know that the plan was to be set into motion. This was when everyone in the room grew very quiet and everyone started praying for the safety of El. They knew if anyone were to be hurt, it would be him. But, they also prayed that the town's people would be safe from the men.

The two men burst through the door. Pablo on the right and the other man next to him. They held onto their guns, pointing them at the people in the chruch. The other man still had a cigerette in his mouth and shades on his face.

"Count them up. We need to make sure everyone's here first." The man said through his cigerette.

Pablo started counting everyone, while the other man took a long drag from his cigerette, his other hand never leaving the trigger of the gun. El had to wait until his hand moved slightly, that way, the people in the chruch were at less risk then before. And when that time came, El was ready.

0000000000

(Back to present time)

"You guys, want the coffee?" Jorge asked from the door, making both El and Sands jump a little from the sudden intrution. They had both been ingrossed in the story that neither had noticed Jorge's footsteps nor the knock on the door.

El nodded towards the man, he now came to know as Jorge, a good, ex-FBI agent who was willing to help out El and Sands.

"Thank you. We could both use something right now." El said, leaning back to pop his back.

Sands was propted up against the backboard with a pillow to soften the hard wood. The sheets were just above his abs and his right hand was clentching it. Apparently, Sands was in more pain then he was letting on.

Jorge crossed the room and handed both of the weary men a cup. After taking a few sips, they both thanked the kind Agent, though Sands waited until El said it first before mumbling his thanks. Jorge knew it was not his right to intrude any more on these two dangerous men. He was already tempting his luck with keeping both the wanted men here, but provoking them in any way would be the worst thing he could ever do.

"Call if you need anything." Jorge said, before leaving the two men once more.

When the door closed, both of the men let out a chuckle.

"I can't believe we jumped when he came into the room." El commented, finding the humor.

"Well, you do have one of those creepy, 'It was a foggy night and near everyone died' type voices to tell a story in." Sands commented, cocking his head to the side. "I am interested in hearing the rest of the story, but right now I can't concentrait. It seems the three days without food is checking up to me."

El shrugged. "Well, guess it is. I could hear your stomach start to growl."

"And you didn't get up to get me some food?" Sands questioned, like it was an insault.

"Well, you would have yelled at me if I had stopped, now wouldn't you?" El questioned, already knowing the answer.

Sands gave his signature grin. "Of course."

With that, El got up, along with his crutch, do get the Agent some food.

**Author Notes-**

**I feel REALLY bad for those who don't know spanish right now. I do hope it wasn't TOO much trouble. I did, if you guys notice, let Sands basically interject in the story, telling you almost exactly what they were saying in Spanish. I hope that helped some. If you guys dig around a bit and pay attention, the Spanish shouldn't effect you guys at all. I do hope you don't hate me for it!**

Mina aka: Mockingbird- Well, it was made to be addictive! lol! If it wasn't, how would I get such great reviewers?

Starr Dust - Fanfiction is starting to tick me off. It keeps messing with my story! I hate it when it does that because it effects you guys the most because you have to try to read through all that junk. Slash? LOL! I know. I'm a slashy lover too. I want to just let those two men kiss and make out so bad I can feel myself moving them closer, but I have to be strong and not do that. I have many plans for these boys yet and making them get to the slash THIS early would be pointless. So, like a good little reviewer, you're going to have to wait. Though, I am sorry I can't write slash yet. I WILL though! I promise! I'll make it a whole chapter even, just for you when I finally get those two together. Savvy?

Kerttu- The Mort.. I take it.. has caught your interest and for the very reason you might be thinking. I loved the character Mort from Secret Window, so hence the name Mort of Sands' twin brother. But, the whole thing about his brother has a HUGE background to it, because I WAS going to write a fanfic about it, but decided to instead, us that as a background for Sands and Morty here. hehe. I'm glad you love the little things I throw into the mix, like the dog. lol. I loved that dog too. Hope you like this chapter too!

JohnnyDEPPmaniac- You don't know the half of it. Sands Backstory was supposed to be a fanfic in itself and is instead a drop back to this. So, I know a hell of a lot more then anyone, even Sands at this point. hehe. Which is amazing, but still. I know what's going to happen to the poor Agent and El. I also know some good news for him in the future, though probably not what you're thinking. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I look forward to your review. Thank you!

Please REVIEW! Because every review I recieve, makes me want to work harder on the next chapter. Guilt for not updating after recieveing 10 reviews, will force me to write. Keep that in mind. Til next time, see ya!


	7. Chapter Seven: Act Two

**By Myself **

Chapter Seven

**Act Two**

El had hobbled his way through the hallway and into the kitchen area where Jorge was sitting. Jorge looked up from his newpaper at the Mariachi.

"Everything go OK in there?" Jorge asked, as if he was asking about the weather.

"As good as it can go." El said, making his way to the cabnet to fetch some soup, since Sands' stomach probably couldn't take more then that since he hadn't eaten in awhile.

"It seems he's being rather calm about loosing his eyes." Jorge commented.

El paused in his reaching for chicken noodle soup. Sands was being rather calm about it all. El knew that if he lost his eyes, he would not be able to be calm. Hell, he would be lucky if he could keep his sanity in check.

"I'll go see if he's being a 'good boy.'" Jorge said, folding his newspaper and leaving El to his thoughts.

El had noticed that Jorge had the 'grandfather' thing going on. He would often give a great piece of advice or something thought intriging before getting up to leave. Jorge also had a sense of nervous chatter too. He would find Jorge sitting in a chair, mumbling to himself just before he would look up to see who entered a room.

El shook his head. He needed to hurry up and tend to the Agent before Sands decided El was being too slow and somehow killed them all. El made his way to the small, imported microwave to heat up the soup confection.

Jorge went through the small hallway into the back rooms. His house only had two bedrooms. Sands was currently in Jorge's bedroom since the spare one was being used for storage. El and the boy, who Jorge had come to know as Marcus, cleared it out. Now, it was used as a bedroom for Jorge and Marcus, while El tended to sleep in the chair beside Sands' bed instead of the couch Jorge offered.

Jorge knocked lightly on the door before entering. He knew better then to surprise the Agent. Working for the FBI for all those years, taught you some valuable lessons along the way.

"It's me." Jorge annouced, so Sands would not get confused. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

"I knew it was you." Sands said with an quirked smile. "I can tell by your dress shoes."

Jorge looked down to see if Sands was right. He never remembered what he put on in the morning, since Jorge was NOT a morning person. Jorge gave a small chuckle. The agent was correct.

"May I sit down?" Jorge asked, feeling strange about it, since this was his house.

Sands gave an incline of his head, to signal yes. Jorge took the seat El had sat in and sighed as he felt his back crack a little as he did so.

"It seems age has been calling to you." Sands remarked.

"It has." Jorge said. "And all that excitiment on the Day of the Dead really brought my age knocking at my front door."

"Did you come out alright?" Sands asked, though no pity or concern was in his voice.

Jorge shrugged. "A cut by my left eye from the butt of a gun, a few bumps and bruises, but nothing to really complain about."

"Captured too, eh?" He chuckled.

"Yes." Jorge let out a sigh. "It would seem they caught onto use more then even you knew. El, was also captured at one point."

Sands cocked his head.

"He told me, just after we left you in bed." Jorge said, explaining. "He escaped just before the General showed up. He was really lucky."

"Yeah, well, it seems like he wasn't this time." Sands commented, leaning back and adjusting his shoulders for comfort.

"You can't be lucky all the time." Jorge commented.

"What about the kid?" Sands questioned, noticing that the boy had not come in the room yet, even though El has left.

"He's in the spare bedroom." Jorge explained. "It seems I have someone taking up this one, so Marcus is lending a hand with cleaning the other one up."

"Marcus?" Sands questioned, with tilt. "Is THAT his name?"

"Yes." Jorge answered, though he knew it wasn't a question to be answered.

"What the hell, I'll call him, Chico." He grinned. "I think it suits him just fine."

"A big fan of 'Chico and the Man'?" Jorge chuckled. It was one of his favorites.

"Who isn't?" Sands questioned with a sigh. "Where the fuck is El?"

Just as he said that, El hobbled over, amazingly not spilling the soup as he went across the room. Jorge stood up and helped him out by grabbed the bowl.

"I got this." Jorge commented, meaning that in more ways then one. Jorge needed to have a conversation with the Agent. He needed to know more then how he was injuried. There was something about the Agent that wasn't quite right and Jorge wanted to know, since said Agent would be in his house for god knows how long.

"Of course." El said, crossing the room once more and exiting.

Jorge set up a little table so Sands could eat easier. He placed the bowl on it, with a soup handle jutting out from the side of the bowl.

Sands lifted his hand and felt around for a few seconds before finding the handle. He could also feel the extreme heat coming from the bowl through all the steam. He scooped up one spoonful and lightly blew on it, until he felt it was safe enough to try it. He was greeted by a boiling hot chicken noodle to his lips. He nearly dropped the spoon, but was able to catch it just in time, but not before the steaming contents went spilling into his lap.

Sands let a hiss through his teeth as the liquid pierced through his thin sheet and onto his bare stomach.

"Let me." Jorge said, grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and wiping it up. This caused a stunned reaction from the Agent.

Jorge didn't notice at first, but Sands had gone completely stone still and was barely breathing. Jorge looked up and noticed after cleaning the spill, that Sands had a stricken look on his face, one not too often seen on the man's cool features.

"Are you alright?" Jorge asked, moving a little ways back from the Agent.

Sands muttered something without moving his lips.

"What was that?" Jorge asked, not understanding.

"I said, DON'T you DARE touch ME!" Sands shouted, flipping the table over and the bowl spilled onto Jorge. Jorge shoot up out of his seat and backed away from the Agent, afraid of what he might do.

"Don't you EVER lay a hand on me!" Sands shouted, standing from the bed and moving slightly closer to Jorge.

The door had opened and El was standing there, with a gun in his hand.

"No." Jorge said, holding his hand out to stop El from threatening the Agent with force. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have touched him."

El looked from the angry Sands to Jorge, who was shaking a little from the sudden attack. Jorge gave El a stern look. "Alright. It's your head." El said, moving out of the room, but not before looking over his shoulder at Sands first.

"I'm sorry." Jorge said, with a sigh. "I shouldn't have done that."

"You should be fucking sorry." Sands said, not sounding as mencing as he did before. He was just starting to calm down.

"I'll go fetch you something else to eat then." Jorge said, moving towards the door. Sands glared blindly at the footsteps of Jorge.

Jorge was about the close the door, when Sands spoke once more.

"Jorge... don't you DARE pity me." Sands said, his hands clentched.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Jorge commented before shutting the door and leaving the Agent alone.

**Author Notes-** I actually drew a picture for this chapter 'la gasp!'. Well, since I was thinking about this chapter and how you guys must be itching to kill me for not updating, I decided to watch the movie over again and try to think of something else to put in. Well, I noticed how Sands never wanted to be touched and almost was NEVER touched in the film, so I thought, why not? The link to it, is in my user page. **Go check it out!**

Starr Dust- I am kind, aren't I? Well, of course I want slashy goodness as much as the next person, but I want them to have at least enough contact to have a real realationship and not those fake, all of sudden lustful ones, like 90 of the fanfics are. So, when it happens, know that it's a fustraited slash-lover writing it.

Horga- heh. Slash might be near and yet again, it might not. I can't even tell because I haven't written the outline for the slashy-ness yet. I'm glad you like the conversations they have, because I was beginning to think it was putting you all to sleep!

Kerttu- Thank you! I love Mort too. He's such a well-developed character that I thought would fit perfectly next to Sands. So, a mort will be showing up, though if it's the SAME mort from secret window, is yet to be seen.

DeppDRACOmaniac- I was beginning to wonder where you were! Well, I'm so happy that you mentioned the writing style! I bragged about that chapter to all my friends before I wrote it. I LOVE it to tell you the truth. It was my time to show you guys my humor, and it worked so well with El and Sands! So, thank you for that review!

Mina aka: Mockingbird- Much love for you reading this! El and Sands really do make such a crazy couple together, but I love making them talk to one another. It's so great to hear their little snaps at each other that I love writing those two just talking! Well, there will be more then just talking going on, but I love it all the same.

empath89- With this, as with all my stories, there is a great distance of improvement. I always hope for the best, but most of these chapters are written very quickly, due to my time limit and in a very small room, so I love writing very quickly for about an hour then leaving it for a day or so.So, somewords arewritten days apart from each other!Often will repeat myself before I don't remember what I wrote.


	8. Chapter Eight: Carpet Fuzz

**By Myself**

**Chapter Eight**

**Carpet Fuzz**

Sands felt his knees buckle before he even knew what was happening. Two seconds later, he was face down on the thin layer of carpet in Jorge's room. He grunted as he felt his muscles convulse in pain from his sudden movement. The stupidity of his actions rang clearly in his dark mind.

Sands knew he was over reacting when Jorge touched him. The man only wanted to help him with his spilled soup for crying out loud! Sands knew that, he KNEW it, but couldn't stop himself from spitting at the man with demands.

The Agent felt all his former strength leave his body as he laid face down on the carpet. His hollow sockets in his face were burning with pain and his gun shot wounds were starting to make their appearance be known to him. He clenched his teeth as his muscles continued to quake from their sudden burst of energy and movement.

He sighed. That was all he could do. He was helpless for right now. That was clear enough to him. But, he knew if there ever was a place where he could be helpless and it wouldn't matter, it would be here. In a place where three people were looking out for him, even though Sands didn't have to push them to do it.

This, he was confused about. Why would anyone with any sort of heart ever care about him? He was a murder who only cared for himself and himself alone. Well, that wasn't true. He cared about someone. Someone that he wasn't even sure was alive right now. Probably the only person that Sands would give his life for.

Sands snorted into the carpet fuzz by his nose. He had given everything for this person. He was beaten from the age of eight until he was fifteen for this person. He was the 'bad' one in school for this person. He was the one who made it out of the broken house and made a living for this person. He gave up his heart and most likely his soul for this person. To make sure that this person did not suffer any more then they had too. Hell! His life wasn't much after all that now was it? Come to think of it, his life wasn't worth shit after all that. What more could this person ask from him?

Sands tired to get angry. Anger always made him move despite pain and injury. It always made him get to his feet and get ready to fight if he had to. But, anger didn't come. Only a sadness that only leaked into Sands when everyone had gone and no one was there to witness it. Despite everything that happened. Despite what everyone thought of Sands, Sands truly did have feelings and he longed to express those feelings with only one person. That person… who Sands would give his life for.

Darkness drifted its way into Sands' mind and took control of it. Throwing all feelings away and making sure that Sands would dream. The sort of darkness that makes you hide under your covers as a child and shriek for your parents to come running in to save you from the monsters larking in the indefinite dark.

'_Sheldon….. Sheldon….' A voice called out for him. Sheldon looked up from under his covers to see his gentle mother standing over him with a worried expression. His whole body was hot, yet he felt that he needed more blankets. _

'_You have a fever Sheldon.' His mother said, putting her cool hand on his forehead. 'I will make you some soup.' _

_Sheldon's big brown eyes looked up at his mother. Her hazel eyes and rich, chocolate colored hair shone in the morning light. His mother was a beauty that was rare to find. Neither looks nor figure. But inside of her, is where her beauty lay hidden. She was a gentle, kind woman, but she was also a very weak one. Broken down by a hard life and broken every night that his father came home drunk. _

_She left, with her flat bottomed shoes clicking all the way out of the room. Sheldon turned his head to the left. _

_Mort, his brother, was sitting by the window in a child made chair. His brows were together in a frown and his eyes filled with worry and confusion. Mort did not know why his brother was sick. Sheldon had been fine the other day. Mort had only been gone over night. Could sickness really happen that fast? Mort's brows only creased more in concern and thought. _

'_Come here.' Sheldon said with a strained voice. _

_Mort rose from his chair and quickly scampered over to his brother. He hoped on the bed and looked down at his brother._

'_I want you to know something Mort.' Sheldon said, seriously. _

'_What is it, Shell?' Mort asked, using Sheldon's nickname. The nick name that only Mort could dare to call him by and not receive a black eye for it._

'_I want you to know…' Sheldon said, reaching a sweaty hand from under the blanket and gently touching his twin brother's face. 'That no matter what happens… to either of us… even if one of us dies… that we are brothers… we're blood… we shared everything together… and because of that… I will always be there for you… and-'but Sheldon was cut off by a coughing fit. _

_His mother walked into the room and instantly sent Mort out of the room in order to treat Sheldon. _

'_Go on.' Their mother said. 'You need to finish your homework.' _

_Mort opened his mouth to complain, but one look from their mother and his mouth closed. He tried to take one long look into his brother's eyes but his brother had his head turned away. His hand was now lying on top of the blankets, no longer touching him._

_Mort sighed, knowing that Sheldon would not be the one to show emotion while trying to act tough for the sake of their mother. He inched off the bed and bowed his head as he sulked out of the room._

_His mother smiled gently at him and cat next to him on the bed. 'Now, prop yourself up if you want to eat your soup.' _

_Sheldon drifted out of his gentle dream into a nightmare. The room began to spin and the once sharp outline of everything started to blur and become unrecognizable. He seemed to be viewing what was going on rather then living it this time. _

_Sands watched as his mother was thrown into the room where he and his brother trembled in the corner, hugging each other. His father walked in, a beer in his hand and a drunken look upon his face. _

_His father grabbed his mother's hair and wrenched her off of the floor. Her nose and mouth were already steaming blood from them living a river. Her cheek was bright red from a strike across the face._

'_You stupid Bitch!' He yelled into her face before slapping her with the beer can. 'Why can't you clean the floors right, huh? Are you really that fucking useless?' _

_Mort shook in terror, hiding his face into Sheldon's chest, sobbing as quiet as he could as he didn't alert their father to their presence. _

_Sheldon stiffened as his father grabbed his mother once more. He knew his father was just getting warmed up. Tonight, his father had lost his job and was taking everything out on his family. He had only laid a hand on Sheldon once before and he had never touched Mort so far. _

_As Sands watched, he remembered the agony he went through during this part of his life. He felt so useless and helpless. Two things that he never wanted to feel again if he ever had the choice in the matter. He also remembered his exact thought as he watched his young self slowly stand up._

"_Damn… I really was stupid as a child." Sands said out loud, knowing he could do nothing in his dream. Though, this wasn't really a dream. This was a true blue memory happening. One that he'd rather forget. _

"_I know what he'll do." He said, referring to his younger self. "I had just thought to myself that this was it. If it didn't stop here and now, then my father will come after Mort sooner or later. Maybe even kill my mother. So, it's up to me to stop this. Damn… I really was stupid at eight."_

_Sheldon shrugged off the hold that Mort had on him. He turned to look into Mort's scared eyes before saying. 'I'll stop this. Don't worry. He'll never hurt you or mother ever again. I won't let him.' _

_Mort nodded. Sheldon had never lied to him before. He had always kept his promises and never told a single lie to Mort his whole life as Mort had never told Sheldon a lie. So, if Sheldon said that he would stop his Mother from being hurt, then he would stop it. _

_Sheldon moved across the room, until his father turned to him from hearing him. _

'_What the fuck do you want?' He asked, his dark brown eyes glazed over from the amount of alcohol in his system. 'You think you're better then me? You ain't better then me. I'm the fucking GOD of this castle, do you understand me? I'm fucking GOD and you'd better get your ass away before I smack you like that bitch over there.'_

_Sheldon clenched his fists and glared at his father, even though inside he was shaking like a leaf. 'Get the fuck away from my mother you filthy bastard.' _

_Mort gasped at the language he heard. Sure, he heard it from his father before, but never from his brother! His own mother never said a single bad word, even though she was always getting hurt by his father. _

'_What did you say to me boy?' His father asked, dropping his sobbing mother to the floor. She was silently begging god to take her children away from this as she did. _

'_You heard what I said or are you too damn drunk to fucking hear right?' Sheldon said, glaring even more at the man. _

_His father chuckled a little. 'You think you're a match for me boy? Do you?' He moved closer to his son and attempted to grab onto Sheldon, but Sheldon ducked under the hand. This only made his father angry. His teeth were bared and he grabbed onto the back of Sheldon's hair and pulled until Sheldon yelled in pain. 'You think you can hurt me? You think you have the right to talk to your father that way? Well, I'll teach you some damn manners.'_

_Sheldon say stars in his eyes that night._

Sands woke up with a gasp as he gulped for air from the horrible nightmare he had. Damn. He wished he could actually call it a nightmare. It was a memory. One that would surface around the day he last saw his brother.

"I see you're awake." El said, to his right.

Sands turned his head over, noticing he had a soft pillow under his head and a blanket on him. He was also wearing a shirt now instead of just the boxers. That thought of having more clothes on made him feel a hell of a lot more comfortable.

"Gee El, what would make you guess that?" Sands said, sitting up to a more comfortable position.

"You seem to have been having a nightmare." El came across as casual as the mariachi could.

"Not a nightmare..," Sands said with a solemn voice, which shocked El. "a memory."

"That bad," El asked with slight concern. What would be so horrible in the Agent's past to make him shudder and scream in his sleep?

Sands turned his head away as if to think about it. He should never reveal that part of himself to another person. Even though as one point, he was willing to let that betraying bitch Ajedrez know his past at one point. Well, only since after sleeping with her, he screamed out in the middle of the night and she had asked him why. Of course, he snapped at her saying that she was so terrible he was having nightmares about it, which of course pissed her off so bad that she changed the key to the room.

"I know about bad memories." El said in a sobering voice.

If Sands had eyes, he would have rolled them about now.

"Do you know why I become a gunman?" El asked, not sure if the Agent had looked into it.

"I know enough to get the idea." Sands explained, remembering parts of the file he had on El, which was locked away in his glove compartment of his car… which is probably being sold by a Mexican drug dealer right about now. And he liked that car too.

"Well, let me explain for you a bit more." El said, adjusting his chair a little, as though settling in for a story.

'Well, let's brake out the tissues because folks, we're in for a long story.' Sands thought to himself in humor.

"When I started traveling to become a great mariachi like my father, I had no idea that Mexico was so dangerous. I never carried around a gun or a knife or anything to protect myself with. I highly doubted I could use one properly let alone be in enough danger to even try too." El stroked his chin. Sands could hear the whiskers being brushed by his hands.

"All I carried was a guitar with me. I barely had any money to my name and the only means of travel that I had was hitch hiking through Mexico." El continued.

Sands would have made a comment, but it didn't seem to be the time for it. Right now, even though Sands didn't want to admit it, it was time to shut up and listen. Not for El's sake, but for his own.

"I came to this town and tried to get hired, but they said that there were no more uses for Mariachi's anymore now that everyone had keyboards and equipment that could become a whole band. So, I was left without a means to support myself in that town. I decided to wait a day to see if I could find another bar to play in, even if it were for one night. I could have used the money. I only had enough money for maybe a night or two in a hotel."

El paused for a second, almost as if to remember everything that had happened.

"Everything happened too fast for me to remember it all in great detail, but what I really remember it finding out that I had somehow been mistaken for an assassin that used a guitar case as a means to carry guns around. So, I had no choice but to defend myself, even though I had never used a gun before. I tried to run and hide, but they found me in the alleyway. I remember opening the case but that was it. The next thing I knew, I had a gun in my hand and a dead man at the end of the alley way."

El ran his hands through his hair, stroking his temples at the same time. He wondered why he was freely giving the Agent information he could use against him, but figured that Sands needed some coaxing before he would come out of his shell.

"I was afraid… afraid of what I was becoming and what I had to become. I tried once again to get out of it before it got out of hand, but… everything fell apart. My first love was shot by the leader of the cartel gang and he shot my left hand while I had my hands up in surrender." El touched his left hand where a thick scar had formed over his own smooth hand.

Sands tilted his head to the side in thought. He knew of the cartel's cruelty. Shooting a guitar playing man in the hand while he was willing to surrender was something that was almost up with stealing an Agent's eyes that he used to watch his chess pieces do his dirty work while he sat back and watched.

"After that, I had decided that I would end that evil and stop them from ever doing such a thing to anyone else. I had killed them all in cold blood. I turned around and walked away like nothing had happened. I grabbed my case and walked out of town only to wonder around, killing other members of the cartel just as I had done their leader."

El ended the story. His voice was thickened with emotions long forgotten. Love, confusion, hate, rage, sorrow and guilt all pledged this man's voice as filtered the air around Sands.

If Sands were the caring type, he might have put an arm around El at that moment. If Sands were the weak type, he might have said 'I'm so sorry'. If Sands were the emotional type, he might have cried. But luckily for Sands, he was the creative type.

"What a fucking sob story." Sands said, wishing desperately for his cigarettes at that moment so he could at least do the dramatic puff of smoke before continuing. "If that was supposed to be your worst memory, then you'd better be glad you never lived in my shoes."

At that, El stared at Sands. Had that really not even brushed on the pain that Sands had felt? Did El truly want to know how Sands become who he was?

El didn't even have to ask that question out loud to know the answer. Yes. He wanted to know about this Agent. He wanted to know everything about this Agent. If only to understand him better, he wanted to know. If only he could relate to Sands, life would be easier for everyone. At least, that's what El would like to believe.

"I'll tell you a better story for the books." his voice as unemotional as ever. "Once upon a time, there were two boys, a mother and a father. Now, they all lived on a happily block with happy picket fence with a happy neighbor with a happy car and a happy little puppy dog. Then, the happy little family's father lost his job. Now, the family wasn't so happy anymore. The father began to drink his problems away, only to give the happy little family a happy little beating every time. Now, he knew better then to touch the happy little sons, but the happy little mother just couldn't move fast enough. So, the happy little family kept quiet for a few years, until the happy little father got a happy little job."

El's jaw had clenched shut and his eyes were burning with rage. He knew Sands was speaking of his own life. The only question was, was Sands the father or the son?

"Now, things were happy for awhile, but this little happy family wasn't meant to be. See, the Father had loved beer so much, he decided to drink almost every night. So, the happy little family wasn't happy for too long. Until, the happy little son decided to stand up like a fucking happy prick and defend the happy little mother. The happy little son went through the happy little beating until he was the ripe age of fifteen when the happy policemen took the happy little son away. Now, the happy little son was too smart for the happy little orphanage, so they sent the happy little son to a special school which made the happy little son sign up for the happy little CIA service which never let the happy little son ever see his happy little brother or happy little mother ever again. The End."

Sands had finally turned his face to El and was smiling that strange, insane smile that always make El want to shrink into the floor to get away from.

"Now, isn't that a happy little fucking tale?" Sands said, wishing he had his smokes even more now.

El had no idea what to say after that. What could he say to a man that had been beaten as a child, pulled from that home, only to end up being forced into a future he didn't want and then having his eyes drilled out? That would make anyone who isn't insanely strong willed go insane from the pure stress of it all! And yet, Sands sat in front of El. Alive and holding onto life with a tight grip. He threw sarcastic remarks at everyone and even joked about his past like it was nothing more then a casual conversation like the weather. This man was a force that El doubted that even the devil couldn't control. And that thought made El worry all the same.

The room stayed quiet and the air grew thick as El tired to come up with something, anything to say to this man. But nothing that his mind had come up with, sounded decent enough to say to the Agent in front of him.

But, it was not El who broke the silence, but Sands.

Sands gave a sigh and bowed his head. "Tell Jorge… that I didn't mean to freak out on him like that…"

El blinked in surprise. Was this man actually apologizing?

Sands seemed to hear what El was thinking and said, "But if he ever has the slightest idea of ever doing that again, I'll rip his nuts off."

El nodded, forgetting for a few seconds that Sands could not see. "I'll give him that message." El scratched his chin. He really needed a shave. "Though, it might have to wait a day or so more. You really shook him up with that display."

Sands finally let out a chuckle of real happiness come through all the gloom he was actually surrounding himself with lately. "Is he really that shaken up by that?"

"Yes. He's had a hard time getting over the fact that you looked like you were going to kill him for it. It seems Jorge hasn't been mortally threatened in a long time." El said, looking over his shoulder at the door, even though Jorge would most likely be in town getting supplies this time of the day then sitting in the other room beyond the door reading his newspaper.

Sands gave a smirk and tilted his head a tad bit. "Well, we're going to have to fix that now aren't we?"

If El had been more comfortable around the Agent, he might have put his hand on Sand's shoulder in good faith to laugh with him. But, he was not that comfortable and neither was Sands with El. They were both enemies of a sort and did not trust each other with contact nor with weapons, but they did trust each other in a way. They knew they could meet on an even ground and talk to one another as only two gunman came.

El smiled as he watched the smile play on the Agent's face as they spoke more about their thoughts and feelings about Mexico. They both indulged in each other's company for the rest of the day, only stopping to eat and bathroom trips.

When night finally fell and both the men were tired from their long conversations, they both decided to end it.

"I guess it's rather late by the way my body feels." Sands said, yawning to prove his point. He was already drifting into sleep even as he spoke.

"I guess it is." El said, standing up with his crutch. "If you want, I'll let Marcus come in here to visit. I hear Jorge has to hold him back in order to stop him from barging in here every five seconds."

Sands smirked at that. He knew the kid looked up to him. And this proved his point. He was glad that at least SOME information from the Day of the Dead was correct.

El wasn't sure how to bid Sands farewell. He knew Sands didn't want to be touched and he was all too happy to abide by that rule, but he wasn't sure if farewells were included in that rule.

Sands decided for him. Sands inclined his head towards El. "Night."

El made a nod, even though he knew Sands couldn't see it. It was the fact that Sands expected him to do that anyway that made El do it. "Night."

He made his way to the door and left.

Sands drifted off to sleep and for the first time in several years, had a peaceful night sleep.

**Author's Note-**

Hello everyone! Long chapter there! See? There was a reason why I didn't update as quickly as everyone wanted me to update. I was writing. Well…. Ok… I'll admit it. I spent about three hours (it's 5 in the morning now) writing this chapter at my friend's house because I couldn't fall asleep. That and the fact that she has Microsoft Word, which made writing about a thousand times easier! I wish I had it on my computer! Oh.. Speaking of computer, my internet is down for right now. It seems the guy who fixed our phone line, messed it up for my dsl so I can't sign online anymore! It really sucks, but at least my friend is kind enough to left me borrow her computer for right now. Well, that's It about my boring life. Now, onto the 'thank you's!

empath89- You thought that was sad? Aww.. well, I guess it was. Well, if you thought that was sad... gee... man this must be turning into a sob story for you then.

Mina aka Mockingbird- hehe. I know. I love my Agent Sands. He's so troubled and yet so damned cool! I sort of gave you what you wanted. El is at least TRYING to get through to Sands, which is a plus, if you ask me. You like my drawing? dances with glee That's actually pretty bad compared to my usual drawings.. I promise to draw for more chapters once my computer is fixed and all that good stuff. I can't help but draw the wonderful Agent and all his sexy glory!

Starr Dust- It took me a few viewings before I even noticed it. Well, I'm weird and look for things like that. I actually looked for times when Sands was touched. The boy touched him, but only when Sands was expecting it. The woman touched him, but he shot her a few seconds afterwards. The man grabbed him, but only after he was drugged up. Other then that, it was Sands touching people, but only for breif moments if they were alive and carrying that one dead body was the only extended contact he ever had in the whole movie! Well, the boy too, but that I will take into consideration for later chapters. All shall be explained. I promise.

quick29- Thank you! I like it that you think my other chapters have been 'good'.

vanillafluffy- Review for chapter 6? Blah! What about seven, huh? lol. Just kidding with you. I am glad that you're still reviewing though. I seem to have lost one or two people... goes on a search for them

Kerttu- points to the comment for starr dust I explain the whole, Sands touchy thing there. Man... I love giving out information don't I? I bet Sands would love me if he ever met me. I can't keep a damn secrete! Blah.. I shall be returning to my bed soon and try to keep my mouth shut about future chapters from now on. I seem to get a funny feeling that everyone was expecting this chapter to go this way...

DeppDRACOmaniac- hehehe! Yes, all my little slaves shall all write slashly goodness for me to read! mwahahaha! Seriously, there's almost no good El/Sands slash fanfics. I've seen about two good ones. Miss Becky is the freaking greatest on El/Sands. I love her fanfics. In fact, I keep re-reading them in hopes that I will one day become as good as her. Well, since I shall try to get back on subject here... if you write a fic on OUATIM, I shall read the first chapter at the very least! I tend to forget easily about fanfics. blushes If I don't have a friend who is always reading it, I tend to completely forget about the fanfic all together... but I shall try. Honestly! I shall try to read the story if you wirte it and review all the chapters. grins Now, if you'd like, you can review MY story. hehe.


	9. Chapter Nine: Questionable Doubt

**By Myself**

**Chapter Nine**

**Questionable Doubt**

"DAMMIT!"

Sands bared his teeth and hissed as the cold liquid fell into his empty eye sockets. He gripped the chair arm like a lifeline between life and death as his knuckles turning white.

"Hold still!" El complained, trying to clean out the area around Sands' eyes… or where they were supposed to be. It had taken him an hour to convince Sands to go along with it, two hours of hearing him complain about it and then another hour to ready him. El was ready to snap.

"That FUCKING stings!" Sands roared, his tolerance for this sort of pain was less then existent.

"Shut up, you big baby." El eye twitched and his hands were not being as gentle as he was before. "You need it cleaned so hold still."

"Well, how can I when it feels like you're burning my face off?" Sands trying his best to wiggle out of El's grip and make a dash for the door, "Ouch!"

El was sure that if he was not completely pissed off about this that he would be laughing at the way Sands was acting. If he did not know any better then he would compare Sands to that of a five-year-old getting one of his cuts cleaned out by his mother. Well, Sands was acting like a child. In fact, he had been acting like a child for the past five days, pouting, whining, complaining and seemingly restless.

"There." El said, pulling away. "Now that wasn't so hard."

Sands slowly sat up and gave a growling pout, if that was possible. He muttered something about stupid Mexicans and then turned to El. "It was."

"If you think so poorly of my handy work, then you should try to do it by yourself next time." El crossed the room and threw away the bloody clothe. There would be no use in trying to salvage the strip of clothe, seeing as it was soaked in blood and alcohol.

Sands snorted and turned his head away. The little drops, of alcohol slowly dripped from his empty sockets down his face, until they made their drop at the bottom of his chin, they reminded El of tears. The sour frown on the agent's face did not detour El's thoughts away from the tear like droplets falling from his face. It made the Agent look much more like a child then anything else. Moreover, El was the mother gently caring for the stubborn boy who refused to listen to anything told to him.

"What do we do now?" Sands questioned, not turning his face towards El, as the action would be useless. His voice did not correspond with the look of tears and the slightly hunched position of his body. However, his voice rarely did sound weak, even if he was so himself.

What should they do? That had been on his mind for a while. El was not so sure that traveling with the ex-CIA agent was the best plan he had ever had. Ever since they started their journey together, traveling across the cities of Mexico, the thought of leaving the Agent behind began to crop up more and more.

El had nothing against the Agent on personal bases. Sands had never done anything directly to harm El. It had been more then that which had El so worried about keeping the Agent around. The fact that Sands had NOT tried to kill him or harm him was starting to take its toll on El, who had expected Sands to try to kill him the first chance he got. Then again, how was the Agent supposed to do such a thing if he could not see? El was a prefect replacement for a seeing eye-dog, as Sands had said to him on more then one occasion.

It was these strange feeling that El had been having ever since he traveled with the Agent that made El want to escape him as fast as he could. No. El had never been one to run, but this was different. He did not feel for the Agent in a way that a man would care for another man, but as a man would care for a brother.

This feeling of wanting to care for him like an older brother would, struck El as something that he never wanted to do. He did not want to care for this man, whose mind would turn even a saint towards Hell! It was not right and El knew it.

"Well?" Sands question again, El jolted out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat in an attempt to cover the gap of time, staring at the Agent.

With a sigh, El spoke. "I think it would be for the better, if we went our separate ways."

There. El had said it. He had finally said what had been on his mind. In addition, all the possibilities of that sentence left with Sands to think of.

Sands sat there in silence, not moving. His breathing was even and did not hitch. It just seemed as if he was thinking about what El had just said. He was being a little too calm in El's opinion. For the fact of that matter was, Sands was close to losing the only real protection he has against all the elements that he had to face. Moreover, his calm demeanor was not showing Sands' distress in the situation.

What would happen if they did separate? Would Sands go back to the US and forget everything that had happened in Mexico? Well, how could he? He did lose his eyes.

This thought lent to another one. Did Sands have a family waiting for him back in the US? El had heard that many Agents who were very cold and tortured inmates at Jail sometimes were family men whose wives knew nothing of their husband's work. Was Sands one of those men, who despite being horrible on the 'job' were dedicated family men?

El's thoughts often led him to his imagination, which had the tendency to overact. He imaged Sands standing, with an apron with 'Kiss the cook' on it, in front of a grill as a beautiful woman stood next to him, wedding ring gleaming in the sunlight. A boy running around a picket fenced yard, playing with a dog with a collar that had the name 'spot' on it.

No. Sands could never be like that. There was no way Sands could do that. To have a family like that waiting for him back in the US like El had seen in some many tourists who came to the cities as if they were museums.

Could Sands have a different type of family waiting for him back home? Like, a mother who worries about her only son who goes off to Mexico for a dangerous mission only to get his eyes torn out. On the other hand, siblings waiting for a letter from their older brother to show any sign that he might be alive.

What if he did have family waiting for him back home and they found out that Sands had his eyes drilled out by a crazy drug lord down in Mexico? Could Sands live with himself after that? Is that why Sands refused to talk about his family or the US? If that was the fact then why had Sands stayed with El instead of return to the US where his family was?

This trail of thoughts was leading to many other roads that El did not wish to travel down today. It was too hot outside and the hotel room was too cheap. It was not wise to drift when a killer was sitting only six feet away from you with a conceal handgun in his pants.

El snapped back into reality. Sands was still sitting there, stone still besides his breathing which remained steady. Apparently, this was not what Sands wanted to hear right now. Perhaps it was too soon to think about splitting up for the Agent. El could stand him a while longer.

Just as El was about to suggest something else because he could not stand to stare at the Agent any longer, Sands turned to El and smirked. "No. I think we're going to stay together for awhile."

At this, El knew Sands was trying to control the situation. He was making demands on El that El had to live up to if he agreed. He would have to take care of the Agent. He would have to be on his toes, making sure no one could harm him in any way. He would most likely have to take on the CIA to keep them away from Sands. In addition, he most likely would die in the process.

Sands would be giving up his loner self and would have to work with El until they agreed to separate or one of them died. He was agreeing to live with El. He was submitting to El's help whenever he needed it. In addition, even if he did not submit to the help, El was sure to force help upon him until he got what he needed. Sands surely knew he would be receiving more of the 'cleanings' by El and they would have to go through all this all over again. However, El smiled.

However, in a strange way, El could not be happier about accepting that offer. Even if it was a chance, just too somehow recap some of his excitement that accompanied such an endeavor

'I guess he does need me.' He thought. El shrugged and said, "I guess that works for me."

I know! It's taken me forever to upload this one. I am VERY sorry for that. I really am. It's just that I was so into writing this chapter to make it exactly what I wanted that I kept re-writing it! Really! Some of you would have LOVED some of the other versions, but I wanted El and Sands to be on agreement and have both of them starting to expect that they want to travel together for a while. I think that makes it a bit more realistic then all of a sudden one of them kisses the other and bam! They're in love! I hope you guys agree with me.


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